Pairings: unrequited(?) Bobby/John, implied Bobby/Rogue
Word Count: ~600
Summary: Everything in St John's life boiled down to one simple truth.
Notes: Set pre-X2.
I never get what I want.
Listening to the echo of his own hollow voice, St John was unsure why he’d volunteered the thought that had been circling through his head for hours. It wasn’t as if he wanted his untouchable-girl-flirting roommate’s pity, not even if the words seemed to have gotten him Bobby’s attention for the first time all afternoon. There was nothing he could do to take them back, though, so he just stared at the box of matches balancing on his knee and wished the moment to go away.
“You think I always get what I want, don’t you.” When he looked up, Bobby had put his chemistry homework down and was staring at him evenly, ice blue eyes betraying neither surprise nor pity. Nothing but the sincere interest that St John both despised and craved.
As if he wasn’t reminded of everything he envied his friend for constantly enough, St John’s mind flashed to the ice cube’s perfect little family, to his circle of friends which virtually comprised all inhabitants of the school, to the look in dark brown eyes at lunch which had shown so clearly that it would only take Bobby one more day or two to get Rogue to – “As a matter of fact, Drake, I do.”
And wasn’t it unfair how distracting it was when Bobby didn’t look away but bit his lip the way he always did when he was solving a difficult math problem. “So according to your world view, I always get what I want, while you don’t?”
It was so annoyingly like Bobby to work his way toward a conclusion so slowly it might be confused with stupidity if he wasn’t working through each step so thoroughly.
“Yes, Iceman. D’ you actually need me to draw you a table so we can compare notes or –”
Something was definitely off today, because St John in sarcastic mode never let his rant be cut off by anything, not even by Bobby suddenly switching beds to sit next to him. “I wonder what would happen if we both wanted the same thing?”
Why hadn’t he shoved him off already, why was he answering, what was Bobby asking? “You’d win.”
“I don’t mean a competition, stupid. Say – let’s say we wanted to watch this movie and we were asking Mr Summers if we could go. What would happen?”
At least this was thankfully familiar, his, their lives narrowed down to a scientific equation. St John swallowed. “Depends on how much you want to watch the movie.”
Bobby moved forward slightly, and this was why St John kept losing out at math, watching – “I really want to watch this movie. So do you.”
When, when had blue eyes become all that mattered even though there were matches sliding from his knee onto the mattress?
“I get reminded I have detention for something or other, and you can take your girlfriend.” Because that was why he really couldn’t get what he wanted – there were three variables in this equation. His mind clung to that even as Bobby moved closer still.
“But I really, really want to watch this movie with you.”
Abruptly, the z that wasn’t him equalled –
“You never get what you want. I always do. Whose fortune wins, Pyro?”
Blue eyes closer than he could ever remember. St John sucked at math, but then they weren’t talking science anymore.
“I think – ”
Crumbling the matches, he got out of bed and didn’t look back as he headed for the door. “I think the results of some experiments are too dangerous to be known.”
* * *